Masquerade
by DarkerThanEvanescence
Summary: Hei, Misaki, a target, and a Masquerade ball. The title in Japanese means 'The Mask and the Ball.'


**I was inspired to write this story due to Mardi Gras, the ball scene from Romeo and Juliet, and the book Phantom of the Opera, I've just procrastinated until now.**

Masquerade

Hei paced casually down the sidewalk, his hands resting deep in the pockets of his jeans. He strolled into the small playground and sat at the circular bench that surrounded the pink, blooming cherry tree. Yin was already there, over on the elephant slide, sitting on its head, her feet laying down the red trunk, silently waiting. Mao was dozing on her lap, curled peacefully, his tail swishing every once and a while in his dream. Hei recalled Mao telling him that he could, in fact, dream. However, they were mostly about trivial, human things, like eating and bathing.

Huang was the last to arrive, like always, wearing his usual brown trench coat and hat, a cigarette hanging from his mouth and a perpetual scowl pasted on his face. As the noxious smoke drifted in his direction, Hei scrunched his nose in disgust at the filthy habit and held his breath.

"We have a job," the crusty man rasped as he slumped on the low bench beside Hei. The Black Reaper gave the man a moment to gather his thoughts (even though there weren't many) and to allow nicotine into his system before he resumed his explanation.

"This is your target," he slipped a note-card sized piece of paper across the wooden planks toward Hei, face-down. The Contractor nonchalantly picked it up and flipped it over, revealing the photograph of an older man wearing a dark suit, graying hair, and bushy black eyebrows.

"Who is he?" Hei asked in a completely monotone voice as he burned the image in front of him into his mind.

"Rafic Hariri, the Prime Minister of Lebanon," Huang replied as he threw the cigarette butt to the ground and crushed it beneath his shoe.

"And the Syndicate wants me to kill him?" The question sounded more like a statement, like he already knew the answer.

"Just the opposite," Huang surprised him by saying. The Reaper glanced up, meeting eyes with the informant. "He's a valued member of our organization, in fact. Your job is to stop him from being executed."

"So I'm just a guard dog…" Hei said, letting his gaze drift angrily down. He didn't seem too pleased about that prospect. He was known for being an assassin, for killing people, not saving them. This was going to be more trouble than it was worth.

"Basically, but you can't give away your position too early. If you stay glued to his side, no one will make a move. Got that?" Hei nodded, but didn't respond.

"Just do what you normally do: stay in the shadows and don't draw attention to yourself," Huang concluded, rousing himself from his seat.

"Looks like we're not needed on this one, Yin," Mao declared as he stood, stretched, hopped to the ground, and started to depart.

"Hold on a minute, Mao. I need you to be on surveillance." The cat stopped and looked back.  
"What about Yin?" he inquired.

"Who do you think is going to be Hei's dance partner?" the middle-aged man smirked.

"WHAT?"

=^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^=

Misaki Kirihara stepped from her steaming shower when she heard her phone ring. She wrapped herself in a warm, fluffy white towel and padded barefoot toward the noise, water droplets hitting the ground alongside her wet footprints. She lifted her cell from the edge of her sink and checked the caller ID. _Shoot! It's the Director!_

"Hello?" she answered tentatively.

_"Kirihara, I need you in my office," _Hourai's voice came through the speaker.

"Tonight? But it's late-" she started, but was cut off.

_"It's urgent. Oh, and make sure you're wearing a dress,"_ he added swiftly and hung up without giving her a chance to reply. The phone beeped in her ear as she stood there stunned, trying and failing to picture a reason why the Director wanted her in his office late at night, wearing a dress. _Oh well._ She just hoped there was wine involved.

=^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^=

"An undercover operation?" Misaki repeated, uncertainty in her tone.

"That's correct. The Prime Minister of Lebanon is here with the consent of our government. His protection falls on us in Foreign Affairs," Hourai explained, folding his gloved hands on his desk.

_Well, I'm relieved that he didn't want me to do anything too weird, but…_

"Why do I have to wear _this_?" Misaki demanded, gesturing to herself. She wore a form-fitting maroon dress, decorated with sequins down to the waist. Below that were lighter red ruffles that hung down to her ankles. Her shoes were dead ringers for the Ruby Slippers in the Wizard of Oz.

Kanami consented to have Misaki borrow some of her jewelry, so her fingers, ears and neck were decorated with a set of matching silver and ruby earrings, bracelets, necklaces and rings.

Hourai slid open a drawer in his desk and pulled something out. After passing it to Misaki, she turned it over in her hands. It was a white Mardi Gras mask, the kind that only covered the top half of a face. She quickly glanced back up at her Director.

"You're going dancing," he said, grinning.

=^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^=

As Hei and Yin walked to the antique restaurant where the ball was being held, he stole a glimpse at the girl.

She wore a slim black dress almost identical to her purple one, except without a jacket. Her silver hair was down, Hei noticed, for the first time since he met her, cascading in smooth waves down her back. She wore a plain white mask, alike to half the people that were on their way to the same destination. He could faintly make out the fuchsia of her sightless eyes.

Hei wore a simple tuxedo, his knives hidden beneath the coat and wires studded along his belt. He also kept his hair somewhat messy, instead of parting it like he does when he's the Black Reaper. He hoped it would make him harder to recognize, despite the mask he wore.

The two sauntered confidently arm in arm up to the guard and showed him their fake IDs. As he checked over the guest registration, Hei glanced upwards. Perched like a gargoyle on the rooftop was a crow, undoubtedly Mao in a different body. The guard handed the passes back and gave a brisk nod to allow them to pass.

As they promenaded down a long hall, Hei took the opportunity to put in the earpiece Huang gave him, unnoticed. They exited into a cavernous room, the ceiling easily reaching thirty-five meters high, and just as many wide and long.

Red and gold banners hung from the ridged support pillars, each of which bore lit candelabra. The only other sources of light were the immense white crystal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling giving off a lax radiance.

Lengthy buffet tables were placed along each wall, serving wine and hors d'oeuvres. This is where the guests currently hovered, eating, drinking, and chatting amongst themselves. Now Hei just had to find his target.

There! He was standing within a group of young women, likely telling them about his work or his social life.

"Target sighted," Hei whispered into his earpiece, then noticed something strange. The device was emitting a high frequency whine, growing in intensity. He was about to yank it out as the noise became painful to listen to, when it suddenly ceased. Voices started to come through on their own regard. A foreign frequency must've been present and over-rided the tone Hei wanted to hear.

_ "Move in on target on my order."_

_Could it be my earpiece picked up the frequency of the people I'm supposed to stop? That would be a crazy random happenstance._

Hei heard a loud clatter and looked to one of the stained glass windows. Mao was there, flapping his wings and pecking at the colored panes frantically, dark feathers being torn out and falling haphazardly.

In that instant, the music resounded throughout the commodious room and everyone gravitated to the dance floor.

_Damn,_ Hei growled, _something is about to go down._

=^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^=

As the music started to play, Misaki took Saitou's arm in her own.

"C-C-Chief…" the cop stammered awkwardly as the blood rushed to his face.

"Mr. Hariri is going to dance so we need to follow him," Misaki explained irritably as she gestured toward the Minister with a twitch of her head.

"R-right," Saitou said abruptly as he led her out onto the dance floor with the flow of people.

As it turned out, Saitou was the only man on her team who could dance. _At least he doesn't have two left feet_, Misaki reassured herself. She did prefer him over Kouno because she knew Saitou was too frightened of her to try anything… debatable. She could have begged Matsumoto to come, pretending to be her father, but he had dinner plans with his wife.

Thankfully, the first song was slow and simple, allowing Misaki to peer over Saitou's shoulders to keep an eye on Mr. Hariri. He was dancing with a young woman who had auburn hair and wore an emerald green dress, for now. Misaki gave herself a moment to calm her fired nerves before the song changed.

The next song was fast-paced and hectic, each duo performing around a minute long dance before the partners switched and it started all over again. Saitou was quickly lost in the crowd and Misaki hoped he was having better luck following the Minister than she was. The older man was there one minute and gone the next. Misaki was surprised at how fast he could move.

_Something could happen and I'd have no idea. This would be the perfect time to take him out. This is so frustrating!_ Misaki screamed in her head._ Although not as frustrating as the men running their hands all over my body_. Misaki grit her teeth. _But it's only for tonight_, she reasoned.

As she switched to a new partner, she felt something press into her hand. She glanced down and found and earwig nestled in her palm. As she reached up to tuck back a stray hair, she slipped in the earpiece and hoped it wouldn't be noticeable from the outside.

She could make out men talking. Strategies… target…. Then the relevance hit her. The target was the Minister. But why would some stranger know to give a resource like this to her? Unless he wasn't a stranger. Ignoring her instinctual urge to keep her eyes focused on the ground, she slowly lifted her gaze.

There was no mistaking that mask, snow-white with slanted black eyes. The bottom edge of the mask ended just below the purple lightning bolt and two dark, raven feathers stood up together on one side.

"BK Ni Maru Ichi…" Misaki murmured. The figure gave a solemn nod. Misaki knew he could easily kill her right now if he wanted to. The fact that he trusted her with this information spoke volumes about his motives. They were on the same side, at least for now. Misaki could sense her heart start to race.

"Can I trust you?" she leaned forward, standing on her toes, and whispered in his ear.

"Yes," the voice that responded was dark and velvet, and she could smell a hint of sweet wine on his breath. A slight red flush came across Misaki's cheeks. They pulled away and locked eyes. Even though she couldn't distinguish a specific color, she could tell the irises were sable. He was also clean-shaven. Dark eyes, black hair, and no facial hair, traits that described half the population of Japan.

_Damn, he's careful_. He didn't give out even one discerning feature.

Even so, she had to admit he was a good dancer, better than Saitou at least. His movements seemed to flow, calm and unrushed, and he easily kept in time with the music. There was also a deeply predatory aura about him. She could tell he was tense, as though he was anticipating something, ready to act in a split second.

Misaki couldn't help but feel herself being lost in the moment, and she began to loosen up.

"Be on guard," he said, then he was gone and another man was in his place. She skimmed to either side, but was disappointed that she could see no trace of the Black Reaper. He escaped without a trace, just like the last time. The MIC crackled to life, sending a wave of static into her ear. As it cleared, she made out:

"_South-western wall beside the emergency exit: All units move in."_

The assassination was about to happen. Misaki broke from her partner and forced her way through the crowd in the direction the perpetrators inadvertently leaked to her.

A gun shot rang out, and people screamed and ducked, all starting to dash for a way out. As she ran, she pulled the gun she had hidden in a holster on her thigh. Misaki had a clear view to the scene. BK201 stood between the Minister and a man grasping a pistol. She was somewhat relieved he arrived before the hit man. If it was just Misaki on assignment, the Minister would be on the ground, dead.

The Black Reaper was armed as well, with his double-edged daggers. He was close enough to the would-be assassin to kill him before he tried anything life-threatening, but that worked both ways. BK201 could easily be hit with a round if the hired gun was fast enough. It was obvious neither wanted to break the stalemate, so Misaki did.

She crept forward slowly and pressed the muzzle of her gun against the small of the assassin's back.

"Drop your weapon," she demanded. The gun clattered to the floor beside a spent casing and the man raised his hands above his head in defeat. As Misaki slapped handcuffs around the cutthroat's wrists, she glanced around the crowd. A few people took notice of her and ducked out of sight before she could identify them. _Accomplices_, Misaki figured. Turning to the Minister, she asked:

"Are you okay, Mr. Hariri?" The older man nodded and dropped to his knees, sobbing from the rush of adrenaline.

"Thank you," he choked out, releasing his pent-up breath. "If it wasn't for you and—where'd he go?" Misaki glanced around, but the Black Reaper was nowhere in sight.

=^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^=

The sidewalk was deserted, save for the lone person walking under the neon signs along shop windows. The buildings loomed, dark and threatening in the night, and the fake stars glimmered over the roofs and occasionally between the walls. The road was lit by overlapping circles of brightness from the streetlights, but no cars drove down the lanes. No dogs barked and not a human voice could be heard.

Hei received word that Yin and Mao had left the building with the rush of people during the shooting and were already heading home for the night. The Police had taken the Prime Minister into protective custody and was safe with them. The mission was over. He was about to duck into the shadows of the nearest alleyway when he heard the distinctive sound of heels hitting concrete.

"Wait!" a voice cried out. He turned and saw the police Chief.

=^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^= =^O.O^=

Misaki was only panting slightly from her run and took a step toward the Black Reaper.

"There was a gun shot, and a shell," she started between breathes, "But no bullet. You have it, don't you?" When he didn't react, she kept going on. "Without ballistic evidence, we have no case and a killer will walk free."

Not completely true, but BK201 apparently decided to honor the cop's wish. He reached into his pocket and held his arm straight out to her. She cupped her hands beneath his and felt the bullet drop. Its copper jacket had mushroomed upon impact and the softer lead had spilled out and hardened. It was even still warm to the touch.

Her eyes widened at the bullet. Not only was it completely intact, but it was clean. It hadn't gone through flesh. She could see where the bullet punched a hole through his suit, but there was no trace of blood.

"How-" she gushed. She watched as he pulled a corner of his suit away from his body, revealing Kevlar fabric beneath. That explained a lot, like why bullets didn't seem to have any effect on him.

"Until next time," the Black Reaper stated, taking advantage of her distraction, her wheeling mind trying to piece together the new information and what she already knew, and flew off into the night.

"Until next time," Misaki confirmed with a longing grin.

**I never expected this to be very long, but oh well. I don't like to beg, so review. Any spelling errors or anything. Everytime you don't review, a kitten is eaten by Domo. Don't let a kitten be eaten by Domo.**


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